Solo
by knightkitten
Summary: Written for ApocalypticReign. Prequel to Taking What's Mine. How Duet came to be. Strongly recommended that you read Taking What's Mine first. Violent themes.


Title: Solo

Author: knightkitten

Beta: Mabel Stanley

Warnings: Violence, Semi-Physiological themes, prelude to slash, AU, a little angsty

Notes: This one-shot is written for ApocalypticReign after she won a little competition considering Taking What's Mine. This is a side-fic to Taking What's Mine and it is highly recommend you read that first. One one-shot down, three to go guys!

* * *

Harry ducked, throwing himself under the hall table and, for once, thanking his small stature. Peeking out from under the table cloth cautiously after a moment of silence, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, moving down the hall stealthily once again. The servants exit was in view by now, thankfully. The almost-seven-year-old smiled to himself, keeping against the wall knowing that cockiness is what would get him caught. He paused next to the door, tucked unobtrusively into the corner, listening keenly for any footsteps. All was silent though, so he reached up on tip toe and pulled in the door handle, thanking the maintenance crew for there monthly oiling of the doors. 

The grounds were bathed in an orange glow as the sun set on another day. Harry was glad for the lack of people. There was a meeting in the hall, for what Harry did not know or care, and so most everyone was inside seeing to all the important people. Just in case though, Harry moved into the forest surrounding three sides of the castle and settled himself in a clearing off to the side. Curling his knees up to meet his chest, Harry breathed in the fresh air and freedom. Fighting back tears though, he sniffed, spying Hagrid's cabin through the scattering of trees between him and the open ground. His friend, the big friendly giant, was gone and he wasn't coming back. The thought made the thin restraint he'd held on his sorrow shatter and tears poured down his cheeks silently.

Hagrid had only been trying to teach him magic! And Harry had asked him too. Now, because of _his_ selfishness, Hagrid was never coming back! Harry cried harder, but suddenly his blood froze. He could hear voices! Quieting and listening intently, they eventually moved close enough for him to make out what they were saying.

'I saw him go into the trees. It was around here. He couldn't have gotten far!' A voice growled and he could hear the undergrowth snapping and rustling under three pairs of heavy boots.

'Are you sure this is such a good idea. What happens when they get the boy back, if they even pay the ransom,' a nervous voice interjected.

'Who says we'll be giving him back!' a third voice answered rowdily. The first barked with laughter.

'They say he's quite the beauty. I'm sure we could fetch quite a price for him at one of the whore houses out in Naroch,' two voices laughed raucously and the last joined in weakly.

Harry didn't know what a 'whore house' was, but he'd learnt that words had different feels to them. And 'whore' didn't feel nice. It was also obvious the men were looking for him. So he cautiously began backing away. A gnarled stick was caught under his feet though and he crashed to the ground. The stick itself managed to take a large chunk of skin from his leg, but Harry refused to cry out and alert the intruders further. Harry listened, hoping they hadn't heard his fall.

'What was that?' The third voice asked, shushing the other two. He could hear them moving in his direction and desperately scrambled to move. To get to his feet and out onto open ground and back to the castle. Moving to the side of the clearing closest to escape, Harry was vaguely aware of the intruders appearing on the other side. Dodging through the trees at a limp, Harry concentrated on the open air. He could see the last unhindered rays of sun up ahead and struggled towards them. His pursuers crashed through the underbrush behind him, drawing closer by the step.

Harry cried out with relief as he finally broke through the tree line. Pelting across the open grass, he picked up speed. He was small and light, a fast runner usually, but his leg kept buckling beneath him because of the wound. The castle was getting closer and closer and Harry allowed himself to slow a fraction as his pursuers were a way behind him. Fiery pain broke out across the back of the head suddenly. Harry cried out, crashing to the ground, the rock one of the men had thrown bouncing to a halt besides him.

Harry knew he had to get back up, but he was so dizzy and his head was thumping in sequence with his heart. The men converged on him, one roughly pulling him to his feet. The other grabbed him by the chin and forced his face into the sun rays.

'It's definitely him. Now we just need to get the proof to the royals,' the man sneered gleefully and let out a sharp whistle. A non-descript owl came soaring from the trees and landed on the tallest mans shoulder. The burliest stood in front of him and Harry was alarmed to see him drawing a glinting silver knife from his belt.

'An earlobe should do the trick,' they all laughed and Harry cried out fearfully as the knife began its decent down the side of his face, caressing his ear sinisterly. Tears were running down his face and he screamed out as he struggled ferociously. Burning pain lanced through his body and he felt the magic pushing to the surface, like a tidal of fire bursting from his skin. He felt himself being dropped and he writhed weakly, vaguely hearing pained screams and shrieking. Then everything went black.

* * *

_The whole world was a swirl of colors and light. For once it wasn't hurting him though. It was like it had been fighting for him and now it finally had him. He was fading into and out of the mass, sinking into and apart of the huge well of power. And then, suddenly, it began to draw away. He was getting torn away from the safe light and the pain was there again, screaming through his small body, grasping the chain that attached him to the warmth and tearing it mercilessly from its attachment. He reached for it, grasping it desperately. It called to him, reaching back. And then it changed. _

_There was a girl. She was soft and pale and pretty. Tears poured out of her brilliant sapphire eyes and long waves of silky curled hair fanned out behind her, falling en masse in swirling lines around her slight figure. She was reaching out to him, there hands were clasped, and there skin the same silky white, there eyes desperately clinging to one another, with the same vibrant life. She gave a piercing scream just as Harry yelled in pain and then they were torn apart and she was being thrown into the blackness that surrounded them and the light disappeared. Harry fell to his knees, screaming. He didn't know who the girl was or where she came from, but he needed her! He needed her to hold him and caress him and protect him and burn him and hurt him._

'_Solo!' He screamed. That was her name, he remembered, though from where he did not._

_Her echoing screams called out from the distance and then everything was silent. The pain was burning through him again and he didn't have the energy to yell. Everything was wavering before him, but he tried to cling to the dream world, hoping beyond hope that She would come back. He refused to blink, keeping dull eyes on the shadows around him. She needed to come back! He could feel himself dying; his young mind knew it with such a startling clarity. _

_And then a figure rose from the shadows. But it was taller than she had been and that beautiful mass of hair had disappeared. Then the shadows cleared just a little bit, but were somehow more potent. And Harry caught the gaze of a pair of red eyes. These were dead.

* * *

_

Harry woke with a start. He breathed deeply, remembering the fear and the pain that knife had caused and then the binding. That had been over a year ago though. Why was he remembering now, when he hadn't for so long. Harry curled into the pillow, thankful that the presence wasn't with him. Ever since the binding of his magic, he'd felt that dead figure lingering at the edges of his vision. Caressing him as he slept. It was becoming bolder. It was hurting people that much Harry knew. But he didn't dare tell anyone. They'd try and bind him again. They took Solo away. And as much as her replacement scared him, he protected him, just like Solo had. But Solo had never come out.

'I'm not Solo, though am I?' Harry swung around. He was lounging on the edge of the bed, inspecting his nails idly. He looked up, appearing uncaring. There eyes locked and those dead eyes suddenly _gleamed_. Harry resisted the shudder it sent down his spine, 'I've never seen you before,' he whispered, crawling closer to Harry, eyes intent and ever so _crimson_ 'Never seen your eyes. Just that one time, but the darkness hid you from me. And since then there's been a veil. It stopped me from seeing and all I could do was whisper. But now, I'm strong. Solo is sealed. She's stopped fighting. Stopped struggling. Stopped _breathing_,' Harry bit back a scream. No! Not Solo! She couldn't die! She couldn't! 'And now she's in me. Now her power is _mine_. And now _I _can protect you,' Harry screamed, clawing at him, pushing him away. He needed to stop him. Push him away and tear Solo from him. Solo was in Him, Harry could feel it. She wasn't gone yet. Her light was still feebly pushing at its cage. And Harry needed it back!

'She's not coming back. Not anymore. Now there's only me. Only this one to protect you. You can't do anything,' he hissed, pushing Harry back and pinning him down, breathing over his ear, his cheek, his nose, his lips.

The door burst open and Harry was free as Moody rushed in. There was no one else.

* * *

Harry felt it. She died 106 hours later. Harry counted. Watched the magic numbers on the wall in the great hall. No one could tear him away from that clock, that room. He ran when he felt her die. All the way up to his tower room. The door was slammed and bolted for the first time he could remember. He was waiting for him, as Harry had known He would be. Harry cried. He screamed. He sobbed. He yelled. And the red-eyed entity held him as he cried, caressing his hair as Solo had after she protected him. Drying his tears as she had. And those eyes. They were different. No longer an angry red. That's when Harry realized. Solo wasn't dead! 

Solo's hazy blue mixed with His sharp red. They were now purple and shifting, his hair longer than the short spikes it had been. His face softer, his lips redder. This wasn't Him. This wasn't Solo. This was someone else. But a part of Solo was there, breathing still and smiling at him in her soft way, holding him in her warmth and saving him in her own burning way.

'Duet,' Harry murmured, snuggling into the warmth and imagining that it was Solo wrapped around him.

* * *

Duet was always there. Always with Harry no matter what he did. Someone tried to take him away from the castle again. They didn't want his earlobe though. They didn't want to put him in a 'whore house'. And they didn't want money. Harry didn't know what they wanted, but they had scared him with their hands everywhere and their hot, heavy breaths. Duet killed them. Duet tore them apart. Harry didn't get the blood from under his fingernails for days afterwards. Just like Solo used to. But Solo never killed them. Solo never tore them apart. Solo made them hurt but never that much. 

Mommy thought Harry had done it. She wouldn't listen when he said it had been Duet.

'Duet isn't real Harry. He's just in your imagination. It's because you're lonely. We'll find you some friends,' Harry knew better than to argue. She never listened. Ever.

The Weasleys were fun. They didn't have knives, or heavy breath or rocks or roaming hands. Duet didn't like them. He tried hurting them. Pushed things from high window sills and hoped they'd hurt the Weasleys. But Harry always saved them. Daddy said it was because he had seeker reflexes, just like him. He'd proudly hug Harry and Harry would never tell him that it had been Duet that pushed the things. That Harry always knew where Duet was. He didn't want Daddy to bring more people to be friends. Duet would just hurt them. Solo had never hurt his friends. Solo had never hated them.

Duet and he fought. Duet wanted Harry to push them away. Duet wanted Harry to hurt them. Duet wanted Harry to kill them. Solo had never told him to do such things. Solo had liked his friends. Solo had helped his friends. Solo had saved them.

* * *

The haze lifted on his eighth birthday. And he realized finally. Duet was **not** Solo. Solo was dead. 

His mom and dad had allowed them into the South city for the day. It was smaller than the Northern city and more houses than shops, but it was nice and quiet and Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione could play there in peace, outside the castle walls. It was the best birthday gift he had ever gotten. They ran down the streets with the other children. Then they had a picnic in the town square with all the lovely food Mrs Weasley had packed. Mom and Dad and Sirius and Remus were somewhere else, but Moody sat with them, telling them stories. They fell silent after lunch and the four of them decided a nap was in order. Harry could feel Duet watching him. But he ignored him and drifted into the sleep realm, where he dreamt of Solo and how she used to be.

Harry woke to warm breath on his cheek, but it was softer than Duet's and smelled of flowers and air. He opened his eyes and there was Ginny, her copper hair coiled around her pale face. From this close, her freckles looked like chocolate buttons and Harry giggled when she kissed his cheek smilingly. He smiled at her, sitting up carefully. Then she disappeared. She was on the other side of the square, lying crumpled where she landed. Duet stood between Harry and Ginny, his eyes shining an overpowering sharp red and his hair swirling out behind him in heavy black waves. There was a sword in his hand. Harry didn't know where he got it, but it was sharp and wicked looking and shiny. He was advancing on Ginny and Harry knew; Duet was going to rip her apart. Like he'd done to those bad men. But Ginny wasn't bad! She was summer and flowers and happiness.

Harry ran, and it was like that day before Solo was gone. He was running and running, but there was nothing behind him this time. He had to save Ginny. Duet was on her now and he was lifting her from the ground by her hair. Ginny cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry wasn't going to make it. He needed a different approach. His mind was clear for the first time in forever and he felt a shimmer of Solo at his heart. It gave him courage and strength, like weak little Harry had never felt before.

'Put her down Duet,' A part of Solo still lived in himself, he knew. But she was also in Duet. All three of them were linked together like a chain. And when one pulled, the others came. Duet looked like he was struggling against the pull, but he put her down anyway, letting her drop to the ground. Duet turned to him, ruby eyes blazing harshly.

'You would defy me? After all I've done to protect you?' Harry felt Duet's power swell as he nodded and suddenly felt weaker. But Solo was with him, he couldn't give up.

'Yes,' Harry glared. Duet snarled and his arm swung out. The man walking by fell to his knees, blood pouring from the wound on his stomach. He fell forward, his head landing into Duet's outstretched hand. Duet squeezed and there was a burst that pulled at the both of them and blood was flying everywhere. The man's head was gone and Harry felt sick as the corpse fell to the ground. Ginny and Hermione were screaming, he could hear Ron being sick and Moody yelling.

'Stop!' Harry screamed, but Duet had already swung out again. And again. And again.

Harry ran at Duet, pushing him down and sweeping the sword up from where it clanged to the ground. He pointed it at Duet, locking eyes with him, emerald and ruby clashing. Duet smirked after a moment.

'Solo is regrouping. I will demolish her,' with that he began to glow a horrible rust red, 'let's see how willing she is to fight when she knows how many people will die for her. You're mine. Never hers again.' The ground was rumbling now, shuddering and growling beneath them. Harry didn't know what was happening, but he knew it was bad.

'Run,' He screamed at his friends and they scrambled to comply. Even Moody fled at the command, knowing, somehow, that this being would never hurt his prince. A bright red ball of light appeared at Duet's centre and it grew, rushing outwards, wiping out everything in its path, disintegrating everything into dust in the wind. Harry screamed as the bright red ball swept over him and burned at his magic, eating that little part of Solo that had grown. He fell back, the blue light that had been growing dying with him.

79 villagers died.

* * *

They sealed Duet. Just like they'd sealed Solo. Only it didn't hurt this time. Harry helped. He pushed Duet away, the polar opposite to how he'd clung to Solo. 

They say the only memories you keep of your childhood were the sad ones, the depressing and the painful. Harry grew. And he forgot the good memories. He forgot Solo…But Duet he always remembered.

Duet he never forgot.

* * *

Many thanks to ApocalypticReign for reviewing Taking What's Mine and for giving me the incentive to put this wonderful idea into fruition. I hope you love reading it as much as I loved writing it! 

And kudos' to anyone who can guess whose names I blatantly plagiarized in this and from which anime.


End file.
